The man’s eyes widened in surprise, as if I had just ordered fifty hams and a Freedom Tower full of cheese. He reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a phone . . . exactly like Stevie’s.

Without saying a word, the man began typing a note on his phone. Then he looked up, nervously held the phone out to me, and said, “Is that all you want? Just one slice of honey baked ham?”

I took the phone curiously and looked at the note. He had written, “Take the ham and run!”

Of course. Only this kind of stuff happened to me. I read it again. Was he serious? I gave him the phone back. He quickly pocketed it and turned around to face a stack of prepared deli orders.

He began sifting through them until he pulled out a thin, white package all taped up. He turned back around, handed it to me, and whispered-shouted, “Run!”

I faced the sea of people and the madness that was New York City shopping. Why did I have to run? Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the Suits walking quickly toward me.

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